


sometimes, the only thing that's gonna keep you here is the stars (and that has to be enough)

by fauchevalent



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Writer!Vex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:11:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauchevalent/pseuds/fauchevalent
Summary: Whitestone Cafe, the sign read, and beneath a light dusting of snow, the chalkboard beneath it read, we put up our X-Mas decor this week! come see it! in beautiful cursive. (Beneath that note, there was another one, smaller and in fine printed lettering. Instead of putting it up in November like the rest of you. Vex chuckled.)





	sometimes, the only thing that's gonna keep you here is the stars (and that has to be enough)

**Author's Note:**

> a fun lil perc'ahlia thing! hope you enjoy

It was midway through December, snow dusted along the sidewalk and piled high on the grass beside, and Vex'ahlia was not wearing a jacket.  
She was shivering a touch, half because she'd spent an hour in the cold, hemming and hawing over her most recent draft and half because she was notably  _always_ cold, and her fingers were going a little numb. 

She may be dedicated, but Vex was not dumb.

She  _was_ the author of a fantasy series - the third book of which had just come out this past summer - and she was  _completely and totally lost_. Despite her beautiful prose, which had been highly praised by critics, Vex had very abruptly hit a wall in her writing. She had written exactly 200 words in the past three months, and she had a deadline in March. 

She was fucked.

Fucked and  _cold,_ Vex thought, rubbing at goosebumps on her arms. She had given up on writing any today once her fingers had started to go, and she had long since stopped looking at her words, unhappy with the results anyway. 

She had planned out her fourth novel, start to finish, months before she'd even finished her third. It had the same dry wit and fun cast of characters - gnomes and elves and everything in between - but before she could even put pen to paper, Vex received a shock to the system.  
One of her dearest friends, Tiberius, had died. Though they had been distant for some time, Vex was crushed at the news. She tried to throw herself into her work, but she found no solace there - instead, it was even harder to face the words on the page. She found pieces of Tiberius across different characters, plot points, and even lines of prose which she'd ripped directly from the man himself. Vex had a habit of leaving parts of her world in her work, but she had never had to face it quite like this. 

But that was nine months ago, and she had built herself quite the wall since then.

Frustrated and freezing, Vex picked up her things and made her way into the coffee shop she'd been eyeing across the street.  _Whitestone Cafe_ , the sign read, and beneath a light dusting of snow, the chalkboard beneath it read,  _we put up our X-Mas decor this week! come see it!_ in beautiful cursive. (Beneath that note, there was another one, smaller and in fine printed lettering.  _Instead of putting it up in November like the rest of you_. Vex chuckled.)

So here she was, having claimed a table beneath a window, finally slightly warmed up, and deciding to order something so they didn't kick her out.

There was a girl behind the counter, her hair slung into a ponytail high on her head and lips set in a diplomatically neutral line. It was a remarkably good poker face. Vex couldn't tell if she was judging (or laughing at) her red nose and shining eyes, or if the snowflakes melting in her braid had garnered any reaction. She stepped up to the counter. 

"A coffee, please. Two sugars and no cream."

The girl nodded, picking up a sharpie and scrawling the information on a plastic cup. "Percival!" She called to the back, and there was a hum of acknowledgement. "Coffee, two sugars and no cream." A man with round wire glasses and an ensemble - button up tucked in - that was far too overdressed for a coffee shop came around the corner, taking the cup from the girl's hand and nodding.   
"A please would be nice, Cassandra." He spoke up, his voice light and teasing, and Vex smirked.  
" _Please_ do your job, Percival." Came the response, just as saccharine sweetly poking fun.  
Vex payed the girl - Cassandra, she noted, and now that she thought about it, she was wearing a tag with the name too - and went to sit down, staring at her laptop like she had for the past hour.

She settled on something she didn't hate - the introduction of a new character she'd been trying to work in for a while now - and typed up something like a paragraph. Up at the counter, Percival was stirring sugar into her cup and Cassandra was leaning against the machine in a sort of understanding quiet.

Vex looked back down at her work and typed furiously for a minute.

_He was young, face covered in soot and curled into the corner of -_

backspace.

_He was young, face obscured by soot and the darkness of the cell._

backspace.

 _It was hard to tell much about him, with his face obscured by soot and the darkness of the cell, but she leaned in closer, trying to catch a glimpse of the man underneath. He met her gaze evenly, with a smirk, and she grinned.  
_ _"I suppose you'd like to get out of here?" She responded, considering his offer._  
"I suppose I would. I have money, whatever's left of it, that I'm willing to give you, if you can help me out of my predicament."  


The smell of coffee brought her out of her haze. She had almost forgotten that she'd ordered, doing the most writing that she had in months, and the appearance of the cup - and Percival - beside her surprised her a tic. She looked up to meet his eyes, which examined her curiously. He gestured to her laptop. "Work?" He asked, and she laughed. "Yes," she replied, "I write."   
Percival quirked a brow in interest. "Do you mind if I..."

Not many people asked to read Vex'ahlia's writing before it was finished. Her brother, who had taken on the role of reading every piece before she sent them off to the editor. Velora, occasionally, when she stopped by. Keyleth, from time to time, when Vex needed help on a plot point - she had proved to be great at ending a chapter or deciding where a battle fit in. Percival's interest intrigued her.

"Be my guest."

She allowed herself a moment to examine him while he read. There were streaks of chalk and coffee grounds on his arms and he fiddled with his shirt collar with his free hand. There was a shock of white hair mussed atop his head and he pressed toward her to lean against the chair she was sitting in. When he finished reading, she was still staring, unabashedly, and took a second to delight in the fact that he turned red as he noticed.  
She winked.  
He went even redder.

"It's wonderful." He managed, and Vex smiled. "Something familiar about it, though."  
The tips of Vex's ears warmed. She was never embarrassed to admit to her novels, but she was touched that he could draw the connection to her work based on style alone. Touched might not be the right word.  _Impressed_ , perhaps. Proud of her work and herself for being so strongly and consistently stylized. 

"It's for my fourth book," she said, and Percival's eyebrows raised, impressed himself. "The _Vox Machina_ series."

Percival's mouth opened in surprise. "Vex'ahlia Ve." He said, almost immediately, and she preened a little. The part of her that was overjoyed anytime anyone used Ve instead of Vessar, her mother's name instead of her father's, lit up. Percy pressed his lips together and she could tell he was trying to will away the blush that still colored his face.  
"I feel we're on an uneven playing field now, darling." She replied, extending a hand. Sure, Vex had definitely heard Cassandra call him Percival at the counter, but was she going to let that stop her from seeing how he responded? Not a chance. She watched Percival smirk as he took it.  
"Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the third."  
It seemed they were in an endless loop of being impressed with each other.  
"Vex'ahlia Ve," she reintroduced. "But you can call me Vex."  
"Percy," he shortened, and after remembering to let go of her hand, he added, "Vex," a thoughtful test of the consonants.  
"Percy," she offered, in the same tone, and God was she so glad she could stop calling him  _Percival_ in her head now.  
"I've read all three books," he said, and Vex grinned.  
"I'm glad they were to your liking," she replied, and she caught another tic of a smirk. Her own inched out in reply.

They looked at each other in the quiet for a minute, until Vex finally said, "I should get home." Percy nodded and examined her for a minute longer as she packed up. When she was just about ready to go, Vex paused and pulled a pen from her bag, lifting her empty coffee cup and scribbling quickly on it. She held it out to Percy, a smile playing on her lips, and winked when he flushed with color again as his eyes flit across her number.

"Don't be a stranger," Vex said, and Percy pressed the cup into his hands and smiled.  
"Perish the thought," he said, and she chuckled.

When Vex got home, she wrote thirty pages about the man in the jail cell. It was the most she'd written in months and she felt incredible. All in all, a wonderful day.

_[ unknown ]: Hello. It's Percy._

_[ unknown ]: How would you feel about maybe going to the bar Friday night, with me?_

_[ Vex'ahlia ]: I'd feel pretty good about that._

Vex smiled at her phone. She had a feeling the rest of her week would be going pretty well too.


End file.
